There but for the Grace of God
by DarthGabithaTheHutt
Summary: A demonic possession in San Francisco introduces Dean to the ins-and-outs of exorcisms. Pre-series, no pairings. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: A demonic possession in San Francisco introduces Dean to the ins-and-outs of exorcisms. Pre-series, no pairings.

Another crazy supernatural story of the Dean and Sara variety! Sara Lucian is a character from several of my other Supernatural stories (which are listed in my profile for anyone who's interested). Reading those stories probably isn't strictly necessary, but might help. Sara is a friend (and nothing more) of Dean's who is also a young Hunter. She specialises in exorcisms and was trained by her mother, just as Dean was trained by John.

xxx  
Black Earth, Wisconsin,  
June 2003,

"How'd it go last night?" Will Atwood asked when his older brother came stumbling into the kitchen.

Adrian grunted, shrugged and stole Will's bacon sandwich. "Ghost's toasted," he said around a mouthful of food. "Figure out that cursed object thing yet? You've been working on it for near a month now."

Will scowled. "Nope. And neither can Maxwell, so don't start."

"Chill. You're still the best tracker I know."

"I'm the only tracker you know."

"True enough. Oh, ran into Sara and Dean," Adrian said. "They're heading to Cali, drop in on Dean's kid brother, renew the wards on his place."

"How were they?"

"I don't know. I think Sara's still kinda worked up about that witch in April, but they seemed okay."

"Yeah, she's good at that."

"Still bitter, bro?"

"Born bitter, Adrian. Just like you."

xxx  
Stanford University, Palo Alto

Sara stepped out of the Impala and turned to look at Dean again. "Okay, so I go burn sage and make some nice, shiny wards for Sasquatch, just like we agreed when the kid wandered off. What are you going to be doing?"

"Keeping a look out," Dean replied.

"Needn't bother. Sasquatch does know I do this, you know, and, besides, he's in a lecture."

"How do you know that?"

"Will hacked into the admin files, found me his timetable. He's in philosophy, by the way. Stevenson Hall. Oh, and you might want this."

"What is it?"

"A map of campus. If you're going to be stalking your brother, you have to know where he is first, after all."

"Sara..."

"No comments, no advice, no interfering. But the wards will take me a good thirty minutes, so go check on Sasquatch before you get arrested for loitering."

Dean grinned and nodded before driving off. Sara shook her head. Dean was so easy sometimes, if stupidly stubborn. But that was a problem that would most likely never be solved, so instead she turned her thoughts to the matter at hand. Namely, breaking and entering Sam's room. Good thing he hadn't moved since the beginning of the year and she could still climb up the fire escape and get through the window.

The room hadn't changed much since she'd last seen it, although Sam had invested in some posters and a hell of a lot of books, but that was about it. The signs and symbols were still clearly visible where she had scratched them into the wooden furniture before, but she redid them and anointed them again. The first time she had done this particular ritual, she'd had to repeat it several times, but it only required one run through to renew it.

Finally, she pulled out the tin bowl from her backpack, as well as a packet of sage and a lighter. Burning sage, the final stage. The stink would let Sam know she'd been here, but as they'd made their peace over this months ago, that really didn't matter. Placing the bowl on the desk, Sara flopped into the chair and set the herbs alight.

Hm, looked like Sasquatch was tackling Aquinas. The Cosmological Arguments, judging by the draft he'd left on his desk. Well, that would drive him up the wall and serve him right. Hunters never tended to have much time for philosophy. Figured Sam would take it up the moment he was able, although she'd love to see his reaction tot the Problem Of Evil. Sara put the draft down again and blew out the sage, flicking the ashes around the room. Voila, one protected room.

She was just packing the bowl up again when her phone rang. "Yep?" she said, answering it. "Will? Yeah, all's good. What?" She nearly dropped the bowl. "You're sure? Yeah, I can handle it. Any leads? Well, you're only human. Call you later."

Ending the call, she immediately dialled another.

xxx

Across the quad, Sam threw back his head and laughed. Tall, skinny blonde to his left, way shorter guy with glasses on his right. And even though it was highly unlikely, it almost looked like Sammy had grown another inch or two. Looked better than ever, in fact. If... you know...

Dean was almost relieved when his phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Dean, it's me," came Sara's voice. "Uh, we have a slight... um, issue."

"What, you got caught breaking into the room?"

"No, Will called. It's all kind of complicated, but there's a demon."

"Possession?"

"Yeah, somewhere in the USA. I need to narrow it down."

"How?"

"Uh, complicated. Come pick me up, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Be right there."

xxx

Winchesters were Hunters, Lucians were exorcists. Until Dean and Sara had met, the two families had had little in common. Amelia had once or twice asked John for help, John had occasionally returned the favour. But Dean and Sara had met as teenagers and, once John and Sam had gone their own ways and Amelia had died, had started to work together. In sixth months, they'd been on a dozen hunts or more, but they had yet to deal with a possession together.

Not that Dean was bothered by that. He'd never been anywhere near a possession, but Sara had been dealing with them since she hit eighteen and been working solo for the last two years.

Admittedly, he'd be a bit more not-bothered if Sara would just explain what the hell was going on.

Currently, she had a stack of newspapers on the table next to the laptop and a map of America spread out across the remaining space. Good thing they'd rented a motel room the night before; Dean hated to think what kind of attention this would've attracted in a public area.

"Okay," Dean said slowly. "So we know there's a possession... how?"

"Crystals." She circled one article, turned the page.

"You what?"

"In Black Earth, I set up these crystals my mum left me. They react to demonic presences. When all seven light up like a Christmas tree, we got a demon."

"And we find it in the national news?"

"Yeah."

"How?" And Dean really gets, maybe for the first time, how much this work means to Sara, how much it takes over her life. Because he's never had to ask her such simple questions before, not about a hunt.

"When a demon takes a host, omens pop up. It's the only way Mum ever found to track them efficiently. The omens point to where the demon took control of the host, but the things often migrate, you know, so I have to pick up the trail before it goes cold."

"Hang on a minute. What happened to 'we', 'us', teamwork?"

Sara looked up, confused. "What?"

"You said 'I'."

"Sorry, I... I haven't done this work with anyone for years. Automatic, you know. Uh, help me out?"

Dean took the paper she offered. They got enough of their jobs from papers to make him a veritable expert in skimming the daily news for supernatural occurrences. Not everything he found was useful, but some stories Sara took eagerly from him. That was when Dean learnt what the map was for. Each omen was marked down, Sara muttering under her breath and measuring angles and distances. There were always omens around, that was just part of life, but the omens for a possession fit a very specific pattern.

"How'd you learn to do that?"

"Practice. Lucians record all the omens that point towards a possession, so Mum would give me lists of them and leave me to figure out where the demon had been. When I was older, I did it all myself. Mum hadn't touched a possession in two years when she died." Sara missed the look of regret on Dean's face as she marked in more omens. Not that the regret was for Sara's expertise, just the almost-bitter way she spoke about her mother. "And I think we have a destination. San Fran, California."

"That's only an hour away. But the city's got about three-quarters of a million people living in it. How the hell do we figure out which one has a demonic squatter?"

"When we're closer, there's something else I can try to narrow it further. But we gotta go, now."

Dean didn't argue. This was Sara's area of expertise, after all.

xxx

San Francisco, California,

One hour later, in one of the cheaper motels on the outskirts of the city, Dean watched as Sara spread the map out across another table.

"Now this," she said, rummaging through her backpack. "This, you'll enjoy."

"What?"

"The omens we spotted earlier pointed to this city. Now we should be close enough for this trick my mum taught me to work." Out of the black bag, she brought a small box and opened it, drawing out an iron nail dangling on a thin thread. "This is one of the coolest things I have ever seen in my short but varied career."

Dean looked at the nail closely, he really does. But it's just a nail and he can tell from the way Sara's mouth is twitching that she's finding his confusion very amusing. "Okay, I give up. What the hell is it?"

"Just watch."

Sara allowed the nail to hang from the thread, keeping the other end of it to wrap around her right fingers, and positioned the nail above San Francisco. With her left hand, she twisted the pointed end and let it spin.

"My gran used to say this was one of the nails used to crucify Christ, but Mum told me her father picked it up in a hardware store and got it enchanted by a guy in Africa," Sara said conversationally. And let the nail drop.

It thudded into the map, going just far enough into the table to stay in place.

"That's where the demon took control of its host?"

"Yep. One magic bit of metal and we've cut it down from a whole city to a single block at most." Sara tugged the nail out of the table and threw it at Dean, but not in a _I-want-to-impale-you-with-this _sort of way.

He looked at the nail again. Didn't look or feel any different to any other nail he'd ever seen or held. But then, Sara was the one with highly-attuned magic senses, not him. "Okay, so let's go."

xxx

"Sara, surely when a demon turns up, people notice something? I mean, they're not normally known for subtlety."

"Not normally, but there's a tricky one every now and again," Sara said, rubbing the back of her neck.

"No offence meant, but we've been walking round these city-blocks for three hours now, and there's nothing. You haven't picked anything up, there's nothing in the newspaper, no gossip about Mr Smith blowing his wife's brains out. Are you sure that nail works?"

"Yes, Dean, I'm sure. This is my life, remember, in all it's fucked up glory," Sara snapped. "Look, a possession leaves echoes. I should be able to sense those echoes. I don't get it."

"Well, maybe it's not you. Maybe it's the damn nail."

"Come on, Dean. You know an inanimate object is always more reliable than a person. I just don't..." She looked around. "Oh, no..."

"What?" Dean also turned. "A... A church?"

"Oh, somebody up there really doesn't like me. Nor you, for some reason."

"Why, what have I done?"

"Stayed. Agreed to help me. Lousy taste in music."

"Hey, you love my music."

"Shared insanity doesn't make your taste in music any better."

"Sara, what's the problem?"

"If the possession took place on hallowed ground, that would explain why I couldn't sense it. But... that means a demon has been on hallowed ground."

Dean gaped for a moment. "Demons can't do that. They just... They can't. That's why me and Sammy spent so much time at Pastor Jim's over the years, it was the safest place Dad could think of."

"Hey, I spent five school holidays with Jim for the same reason, more or less, but there are some demons, nasty demons, that can manage to walk on holy ground. They used to be way more common, back when the Lucians first started out. They almost destroyed England. All that crap about the Black Death? More than half those deaths were caused by demons that could go anywhere, even into Cathedrals."

"Sara, I flunked history. Just tell me you can deal with it and I'm cool."

She shrugged. "It's just... this kind of demon turns up maybe every two years and Mum dealt with it last time, she said I wasn't ready."

It was Dean's turn to shrug. "Well, you are now."

"Dean, do you encourage me like this because you actually believe in me or because you have no idea what it takes to do this successfully?"

"Bit of both."

Sara smiled slightly. "Figures. I should call Bobby."

"Bobby? Why?"

"He was an exorcist. Gave it up when my mother came to America, said she was too good, made him look like a bumbling amateur. He might have some advice for me."

"You mean your mom didn't tell everything?"

"She hated me doing this, remember?" Sara said over her shoulder as she walked back towards the car. "She only told me what I needed to know and... I guess she figured I didn't need to know this."

Dean followed her. "Your family is crazy."

"Preaching to the choir, mate."

xxx

Back in the motel room, Dean watched as Sara paced, listening with rapt attention to whatever the hell Bobby was telling her. He, for his part, was going over every weapon he had, every consecrated bullet, every grain of salt and drop of holy water. It was what he did when facing a new enemy for the first time. Made him feel better, for some bizarre reason.

"No, I'm not trying to do this alone, Bobby, although I'm insulted by the implication I can't deal with my own business. It's just another demon. What? Oh, I'm with Dean. Yes, still. It's part of the whole working together thing we've got going here, I realise the concept may not be familiar."

Yeah, Sara wasn't happy. She was always more snarky when she was upset.

"Yeah, I know that ritual. It'll work? Awesome. Thanks. Oh, just to check, holy water-? Brilliant. Yeah, I'll call when we're done. Thanks, Bobby."

"So?" Dean asked when she hung up.

"Turns out I already know the right ritual."

"How can you already know it and not know that you know it?"

"Need to know basis, remember? Believe me, if Amelia Lucian told you to memorise something, you'd remember it first and ask questions never."

"Okay, chill. So we... what? Find the demon, you chant at it, we're all good?"

"More or less. Holy water and Devil's Traps will still work against a level eight, so we just need to track down the host."

Dean frowned. "Level eight?"

"You ever read Dante's _Inferno?_"

Dean gave her a look.

Sara grinned. "Right, stupid question. Guy called Dante wrote a book about a man who takes a trip through Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. He described Hell as being made up of nine different levels, with the demons and the sinners getting worse the further down you went, till you reached Lucifer and Judas Iscariot in the very centre. The Lucians' ran with the metaphor, dividing demons into nine categories depending on strength. Levels one to seven can't walk on holy ground."

"So how do you know this demon isn't a level nine?"

"There's only ever been one level nine demon, Dean. The omens were off the scale, not the tiny ones we found. No, this is a level eight and that is quite enough for us to getting on with, don't you think?"

xxx

"You know," Dean said as they approached the church again. "It's a damn good thing the demon didn't come here on a Sunday. Tracking down an entire congregation would take forever."

"Last year, the omens pointed to a retail centre," Sara replied flatly. "Believe me, this is simple."

Dean shut up at that point. Sara had never said it, and Dean had firmly resolved never to ask, but he knew that normally the only way to track a possessed host was by the trail of bodies it left behind. The longer Sara took to find the demon and get rid of it, the more people died.

"Do you have a plan?" he asked softly, just before they entered the church.

"Yep. Find the demon, exorcise it, move on," Sara said. "More specifically? Find out who was here two days ago."

"Hence the badges?"

Sara nodded, then frowned. "Since when do you say 'hence'?"

Dean shrugged. In all truth, he didn't. But Sara did on occasion and he was more than willing to parrot her for some badly needed distraction.

It seemed to work. Sara shook her head, a gesture that was as affectionate as it was exasperated. "Just follow my lead, ok? To start with at the very least?"

He was okay with that, as well. Dean had a pretty good idea what Sara was going to do, anyway. They had the police detective badges and both were dressed sort-of respectfully. All he had to do was not look surprised at whatever details Sara came out with and all would be good.

The church was large, the stone walls and floor cool even in summer. By the door was a tiny alcove with a pool of holy water. Sara, in a previously-unseen act of faith, dipped her fingers in the water and crossed herself as a young priest looked up from the altar and saw them.

He could be very young, or be older than Dean, but the priest had the sort of clumsiness about his movements that pointed to gangly limbs under his sombre clothes and it made judging his age impossible for Dean. People like that always made Dean think of a teenage Sammy, banging into doorframes and knocking things over.

"Good morning," the priest said as he reached the two Hunters. "I'm Father Gabriel."

"Morning, Father," Sara replied, shaking his hand. Dean saw the last remaining drops of holy water which clung to her hand and grinned. "I'm Sara Burnett," Sara continued. "This is Dean Hulme."

Dean smiled and shook the priest's hand as Sara began to speak again.

"We're very sorry to disturb you, but we've had some reports of a disturbance nearby," Sara was saying politely, showing her fake badge. "Would you mind if we asked you some routine questions?"

"Of course not," Gabriel replied.

"Could you tell us who was in here two days ago?" Dean asked, bringing out a notebook.

"Between two and five in the afternoon," Sara added.

"Just myself, Father James and the Arnolds."

"The Arnolds?"

"Mr and Mrs Arnold, and their daughter. They were here to talk about the baptism, it's in two days so they wanted to finalise a few details."

"Do you have their address? It would be very helpful to speak with them," Dean said.

"Uh, yes, Father James would have." Gabriel gestured vaguely. "Just a moment." He hurried off again.

"Priests," Dean muttered.

Sara smiled slightly. "At least he's helpful."

"He's not..."

"Nope. Demon free, I promise. And only four other suspects, three if we don't count the kid."

"I guess demons aren't big fans of preschool, huh?"

"It's hard to do the work of Satan before you can walk and talk. Hey, Dean? Does the altar seem wrong to you?"

"You mean, apart from the huge crack in it?" Dean said, looking at it. "Think that has something to do with our problem?"

"Maybe. Altars are meant to be pretty holy, been consecrated and whatnot. Maybe the demon would want it broken."

"Assuming it needs a reason."

"True. Level eights are-" Sara cut herself off as Gabriel returned.

"Here's their address," he said, handing over a small slip of paper. "I asked Father James, and he said he didn't notice anything odd yesterday afternoon. Neither did I, for that matter. What sort of disturbance are you investigating?"

"Just rather sketchy reports of someone acting a little... unusually, causing some concern to those around him," Sara replied. "So no one came in to the Church, no one acted in a way that worried you?"

"Uh, Father James had a bit of headache, but that's fairly common," Father Gabriel said with a smile.

"What happened to the altar?" Dean asked.

"Terrible shame, isn't it? I think the wood wasn't properly treated or something. But we'll have to wait until the Bishop can consecrate a new one for us, and that looks set to take about a week."

"Won't that affect your work?"

"We've cancelled this week's mass, but I'll be holding the prayer services as normal, and Father James will still hold the baptism on Saturday."

Sra nodded thoughtfully. "Would it be possible to speak to Father James? Just for the sake of procedure."

Father Gabriel nodded and went back to the room when he'd gone to fetch the address. Dean moved position slightly so he was closer to the pool of holy water and started flicking the pen between his fingers, looking for all the world like he was bored out of his skull. What could he say, years of practise. Sara gave him a quick smile, but it did not so much fade as vanish when a second priest walked towards them.

"Gabriel tells me you wanted to ask me some questions," Father James said.

"If you don't mind, sir," Dean said, still fiddling with the pen.

"Of course not, but I really didn't notice anything out of the ordinary."

"Well, in that case, sir, we'll get out of your way," Sara said. "We just needed to hear it from you personally."

"Thank you for your time," Dean added. The pen flicked right out of his hands, flying into the pool of holy water, splashing the liquid across the floor and the group standing there.

Father James didn't flinch, his eyes didn't black. But he didn't flinch and his eyes didn't turn black only because he stepped promptly – too promptly – backwards, completely avoiding the spray of water. Dean retrieved the now-waterlogged pen, apologising profusely, and followed Sara out of the church.

xxx

The next chapter should be up in about a week. Reviews will be treasured, tucked in and have a story of their choice read to them. )


	2. Chapter 2

2xxx

"The priest," Sara said as they walked down the street. "It's in the bloody priest!"

"Which is kinda ironic, I guess," Dean replied. "You sure it's in him?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. We have to get ready, perform the exorcism tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"One, because it's a bloody miracle that no-one's died yet and two, because the day after tomorrow he's gonna baptise a kid."

"Can a demon even do that?"

"I don't know! And I intensely don't want to find out."

"What's the big deal?"

"Oh, why can't America have Religious Studies on the national curriculum? Look, a baptism, according to certain schools of thought, is the only way of entering into salvation, the only way to get into the kingdom of heaven. That's when a priest or whatever does it, I mean, technically anyone can do a baptism, I think. It's a way of... passing the power of salvation on. But you can only be baptised once. If a demon does it, I'm pretty sure it doesn't count. Forget about being a Christian, that kid could end up being the antichrist for all I know."

Dean couldn't help sounding incredulous. "You believe that shit?"

"What I believe isn't the issue," Sara snapped. "No matter what the demon's plan is in doing this, it's my job to do everything and anything I can to stop it. Assuming, of course, that that's all ok with you?"

It had been a long time since Sara had been that sarcastic with Dean and it took a moment for him to follow her as she strode down the road towards the car.

"What the hell is going on with you?" he said as he caught up with her. "You never act like this on a hunt."

"This isn't a hunt, Dean. It's an exorcism. And you don't know a damn thing about me when it comes to those."

"So talk to me! Tell me what's going on."

"You know what's going on. There's a demon, I'm going to exorcise it."

"How?" Yeah, a stupid question, and Dean deserved the flippant answer Sara gave him:

"Chant at it, remember?"

"Why does that work?"

"I don't know. Why does silver kill a werewolf?" Seeing Dean's expression, Sara sighed. "Gran used to say it's like... finding the right combination. The right words in the right sequence, somehow they can... throw the demon off. Shake it around enough that it lets go of the human soul. Then you yank it out of the host and use more words to send it back to hell. Once you've got it loose, it's pretty easy. Hell doesn't like losing what it owns, and it really doesn't let go easily."

"It is dangerous?" Another stupid question, but _how is it dangerous? _or rather, _exactly how are you going to get hurt doing this? _sounded even worse in Dean's mind.

Sara shrugged. "Excluding the hosts who have their bodies too badly damaged by the demon to survive, two or three out of ten die in the ritual. Least, that's what it was for my mother."

"And for the exorcist?"

"Uh, possession's a risk, but I've been trained to resist that. Worst case scenario, I accidently send myself to hell along with the demon, but no Lucian's done that in a hundred and fifty years, and I'm pretty sure I know what he did wrong," Sara added quickly.

"So... about standard then? For us?"

And, at long, long last, Sara smiled. "Yeah, more or less. You up for deceiving a demon?"

"Take it we want our dear Father James alone somewhere? I'll sort it, don't worry."

"Never do."

xxx

Which was, of course, a complete and utter lie on Sara's part. She did worry. She worried a lot, normally about minor things like staying off the radar, avoiding her grandmother's family, keeping her friends alive. Small, minor, _private _worries. Public worries were things like how to kill the local monster, or how to stop Dean driving her scatty when he was bored. But a few times a year a demon would drag its evil butt out of hell and then she'd get to worry about a whole new list of things. Like making sure she had the right ritual, that she knew who the host was, that no bystanders were going to get caught in the crossfire.

For once, that list wasn't quite as intimidating as it could conceivably be. She had the right ritual, she knew where the demon was. The only problem left were the bystanders. Well, not a bystander. More... a well-meaning but idiotic business-partner.

Because that's what Dean was. Well-meaning, idiotic, business partner. Yes, he was also her best friend, a fact which was both worrying and oddly comforting, especially at moments like this, but Sara couldn't shake the feeling that she should be telling him to get the hell away.

Sara had never had much time for psychology, but she knew that first impressions stuck. Her view of her own mother as some sort of superhero had lasted until Amelia Lucian's death, even a bit beyond it. And in the same way that Amelia had always seemed invulnerable to Sara, she had also always been alone. Lucians worked solo. But the first Hunters she had met, Adrian Atwood and his brother Will, had worked together from the word go. Bobby Singer and Pastor Jim was part of a semi-official network of Hunters. So Sara had always had this little line drawn in the sand between Hunting and exorcisms. And she'd known that she'd be alone for much of her life. Even when it had looked like she would never be a real Lucian, that she'd never be allowed –_be good enough-_ to perform exorcisms, Sara had always seen her life alone.

Then she'd run into Dean Winchester, who had demolished all her plans without even realising what most of them were. If not for that whole thing with the cult, Sara knew Amelia would never have agreed to train her, and without Dean, Sara wouldn't have survived to see that change of heart. Dean, maybe because he was pretty close to her age, or because he didn't respect her mother in the blind way that the Atwoods sometimes seemed to, made Sara think about her life in ways that she would have considered impossible.

But she'd still expected to face the demons alone.

That thing with the witch, just a few months ago, when Dean had saved her life, had shaken up her beliefs a bit. But this wasn't a hunt! This was an _exorcism. _

But whether or not Sara could wrap her head around the notion that Dean was going to stay really didn't matter. Dean wasn't about to leave, she knew that much. The why could wait until the demon was gone.

Speaking of which... Sara allowed herself one last read-through of the ritual Bobby had told her would get the job done. She'd memorised all the rites as a teenager, but it always helped to have the right one in the forefront of her mind. There was nothing worse than trying to fight a demon and hold a book open at the right place _all at the same time._

She glanced up when she heard Dean fumbling with the lock, lips still moving in silent recital.

"We're on," Dean said, elbowing the door shut behind him. "Thanks to my truly awesome bullshitting abilities, James and his unwelcome guest will meet us in the church at seven. We've got an hour or two left to prepare."

"Gives us plenty of time to set up the battle-ground. What about the other priest? Uh, Gabriel?"

"James said he'd be alone. Can't see why he'd lie about it. I mean, it's not like he knows who you are, right?"

"He shouldn't. They got pretty good at recognising Mum, but I'm still little more than a rookie. 'Sides, Gabriel's only human. We can always knock him out, stuff him in a cupboard or something, I suppose."

"You know, I've always wanted to do that."

"In half a dozen years of hunting, you've never locked someone in a cupboard? Good grief, and people say I'm deprived."

"Hey, normally I'm trying to kill the bad guy, not keep idiot priests away from their possessed mentors."

"Fair point."

"So, assuming we can deal with one human priest, what's the plan?"

Sara thought for a moment, idly running her fingers over her silver spiral pendant. "Got any paint?"

xxx

Dean had broken into a lot of places over his long and varied career, but breaking into a church had been a new one. Not that he minded, breaking into anywhere was always worth it in his opinion. He said that to Sara, getting a genuine smile from her in return, and that was worth it too.

Once they were in the church, it was the work of moments to check they were alone. They had a good hour to kill before the demon was due to show up, which should be plenty of time for Sara to do... whatever it was she was going to do. Something involving the large tin of black paint Dean had dug out of the Impala's trunk, much to Sara's surprise.

"You know, this is sort of bizarre," he said, leaning against the wall with a shotgun in one hand as Sara yanked the rug up from the floor in what Dean could only assume was the priests' office.

"As opposed to the oh-so-normal pursuits we normally dedicate ourselves to," Sara said drily.

"Point," Dean conceded. "But still, a magic circle? Have you no pride?"

"No more than you." Sara used her knife to flip the lid off the paint can. "I know you've used Anasazi symbols. This isn't that different. And they're guaranteed to work."

"By who?"

"Seven hundred years' worth of Lucian experience and experimentation. More importantly, this is the one that Bobby swears by. Combination of the Grand Pentacle and the Fifth Pentacle of Mars. Potent stuff."

"Wait, you mean that wacky graffiti he has on his ceiling?"

"Good grief, Dean, don't you ever ask about things like that?"

"Don't need to. You know it all."

"Flattery will get you everywhere. Hold the book for me, will you?"

Dean did as she asked, watching as Sara started copying out the symbols onto the floor. "So, we lure the demon into the circle and then you start with the Latin?" he asked.

Sara nodded. "Might try to loosen the demon up a bit first. Holy water will be good for that. Fun fact, if you ever want to put a demon's teeth on edge, throw around Christ's name as much as possibly. Preferably in Latin for the true ponce-like effect."

"Christus?"

"Yeah. From Christos in Greek. Christo tends to have the best effect. _By Christ." _

"Significance?"

"Dude, Christ was an exorcist. The greatest one ever to walk the earth." Sara finished one symbol lining the circle and started on another. "If you believe that sort of thing, that is."

Dean just shrugged. His own opinions about God were pretty settled, but this was one of those things that he and Sara just didn't discuss. She had faith in something, normally he'd guess something like a functional semi-automatic, as did he. It was enough in their line of work.

Sara had almost finished all the symbols and circles before Dean started to get bored. Fortunately, Sara recognised the oh-so-subtle signs, such as the foot-tapping and whistling, and idly flicked paint at him to get his attention.

"Feel like fetching the holy water?" she asked.

"Trying to keep me busy?"

"No. Unless it's working."

Dean grinned and exited the office, the shotgun still in his hands. The font was filled to the brim with holy water and it was easy enough to find a bowl and jug so Sara could have some to hand. The font was by the door, in some weird twist of symbolism that he could remember Pastor Jim mentioning, but not any of the details. Whatever the spiritual significance, however, Dean was still in the perfect position to see the church yard.

"Hey, Sara?" he called.

"What?"

"Do you remember there being any cars in the church yard?"

There were a few faint curses. "Who is it?"

"No idea. Just the car. Is there another way into this place?"

"How the hell should I know?"

Yeah, okay, fair point. Dean grabbed the bowl and jug, carrying them both back to Sara, and picked up the shotgun again. "I'm going to look around."

"If it's James, run, okay? That shotgun won't do you much good. I'm almost done, try and lure the guy back here."

"And if it's Gabriel, or some other well-meaning Christian with crappy timing?"

"The cupboard plan had some elegance, don't you think?" Sara said, still focused on the Devil's Trap she was painting. To Dean's uneducated eye, it looked pretty finished. Just some weird-ass scorpion/lobster thing that was only half-drawn left to complete.

Dean took a moment to push Sara's revolver closer to her hand, just in case, and hefted the shotgun. Just a quick check of the perimeter to prove he was nothing more than paranoid, and all would be good.

xxx

Sara added a final line and finally finished off the scorpion. She'd always sucked at art, but this sort of copying, she could manage. Mind you, she'd been able to draw protective signs and sigils for years. It was just the damn scorpion. Wretched thing, but this demon was nasty and Sara always went for overkill over being killed.

She put the lid back on the paint tin and reached under the desk to grab her backpack. Rosary to wrap around one wrist, a small vial of chrism oil that she'd 'borrowed' from Pastor Jim, standard equipment. Putting the bag out of the way again, Sara stood and absent-mindedly started to fiddle with her necklace, a simple silver spiral on a black cord. Dean had given it to her years ago and while he must have figured out that she was fond of it, after all, she never took it off, he didn't know that she used it as her focus.

Amelia had never approved of her daughter's choice, but the use of a focus was pretty much a necessity. Without one, Sara would have to channel enough power to evict a demon through herself, rather than through the necklace, and that would just end badly. And it was possible to rationalise Sara's choice. A focus had to be small enough for the exorcist to keep with them at all times, and it had to be something personal and familiar. Sara had worn the necklace simply because it was pretty and somewhat quirky for a year before she started working on exorcisms. Fortunately, Dean didn't know about focuses, and Sara wasn't about to explain it to him.

Equally fortunately, he'd also left the revolver within easy reach. Sara grabbed it as she heard the door's hinges creak and had it pointing at the door by the time it swung open.

It was a good thing she'd been taught that, while getting the first shot in was sometimes advantageous, occasionally it paid to think before pulling the trigger, otherwise the sight of the black clerical outfit would have been the end for Father Gabriel.

Who, understandably, was looking more than a little concerned at having a gun pointed at him.

"You know, your timing is beyond atrocious," she said finally, but didn't lower the gun. "Hey, Dean!" she yelled.

"What?"

"Don't suppose you found the cupboard I was pinning my hopes on?"

"And I don't suppose there's any chance you can explain this?" Gabriel muttered, looking at the admittedly-slightly-satanic image on the floor.

"Not in terms you'd be willing to accept."

"Sara, this church doesn't have a single lockable cupboard," Dean said, returning. "At least, not one big enough to stuff a priest into."

"Great. This is why I hate doing this. Something always goes wrong! How much time have we got left?" Sara asked.

"Ten minutes, if we're lucky." Dean looked from Sara to Gabriel. "If I suggest explaining it to him, are you going to call me an idiot?"

"We're not meant to tell people what we do, remember?"

"What about the guys on the _Louisiana? _We told them."

"That was different! One of them had a ghost for a sister."

"What?" Gabriel said. "What the hell is going on here?"

Sara gave Dean one last exasperated look, then lowered her gun. "Fine. Just remember, you wanted to know. I'm an exorcist. I believe that Father James is possessed. The fine figure of a man behind you is my trained ape, here to help with heavy lifting."

"Call me Dean."

"And no, I'm not crazy, kidding, lying or drunk. There are demons out there, and if you pulled yourself out of fits of religious ecstasy, you'd be able to see that! Now sit down on the other side of the circle and stay out of the way, or you'll get possessed and I really don't want to do this twice."

"Demons?" Gabriel said.

"Yep."

"Demons?"

"He's not cruising past that concept any time soon, is he?" Dean said.

"Look, mate, you wear that collar, you're meant to have read the Good Book. All of it! Not just the highlights. Jesus cast out demons!"

Gabriel paused. "Okay, there are demons. Possibly."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Dean, you up for a little luring?"

"On it. You'll be okay?"

"Yeah, soon as this is all over." Sara looked back to Gabriel. "Come on. Let's find somewhere for you to cower."

"I should really just call the police."

"You won't."

"How'd you figure that?"

"Cause of what I'd do to you if you did."

"Will James be alright?"

"Yeah. I think so. He shouldn't remember any of this. But you might want to get him checked out afterwards, drugs, STDs, all that stuff. Hey, he may be a priest, but the demon sure as hell isn't," she added.

"Is that why the altar broke?"

Sara smiled slightly. "Give the man a small cigar. Now, go, cower in the back room till this is over."

"Would it interfere if I prayed?"

"Nah. It won't do any good, you realised, but..."

Gabriel frowned, slightly puzzled. "How can you use Jesus as proof that what you do is real, yet not believe?"

"I know, for lack of a better word, that God exists," Sara replied. "But that whole omnipotent, omnibenevolent thing? It doesn't hold up for a second in my world. Either God can't help, or he won't help, and whatever the answer, praying isn't going to do a damn bit of good."

"I would've expected someone who said that to say that God doesn't exist."

"I spend my whole life telling demons to get out, and I am nowhere near arrogant enough to think that it works 'cause of me. In nomine dei, that's the key."

"How can you do this and not have faith?"

Sara huffed. "That is so typical of a-"

They both heard the crash, both spun to round to the door. Sara pushed Gabriel back, already moving forward.

"Stay here and stay quiet," she ordered.

Leaving Gabriel in the backroom, Sara carefully made her way through the office, past the Devil's Trap. She'd been stupid and overconfident, but letting Dean check for danger was second nature. At the office door, Sara paused and then slid her revolver back into its holster. Shooting the host wasn't on the game plan, not least because it wouldn't be any help whatsoever. Demons could keep their hosts functional after eight-story drops, after being shot or stabbed, poisoned or drugged. Which made beating one down really, really hard.

Oh, well. It wasn't like she had many options. Sara picked up a glass bottle of holy water and edged out into the church.

The crash, she'd guess, would've been Dean smashing into one of the pews, most likely because the damn demon had thrown him into it. Just once, she thought, it would be nice to enter a room and not have to figure out what act of violence had just occurred.

But because that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, Sara snuck up behind the demon, who was still facing the quite-possibly unconscious Dean, and smashed him across the back of the head with the bottle of holy water. Normally, such an action would result in the immediate loss of consciousness in the assaultee. In this case, it did little more than get the demon's full attention, even as the holy water smoked as it touched the possessed host.

xxx  
Standard procedure, guys. Reviews are loved and adored and the third and final chapter will be up by Sunday.


	3. Chapter 3

xxx

Father James – or the thing possessing him – spun round. Sara tried not to notice anything about the man himself. Focusing on the solid black, soulless eyes would help her far more in the long run.

"Sorry," she said, falsely bright. "Didn't mean to distract you from the whole killing my friend thing, but-"

The demon grinned. "Lucian."

"Ah." She hadn't expected that. Behind the demon, Dean had just moved slightly. Yep, back up would be a good thing right about now...

"I've heard a lot about you. Gotta say, thought you'd be taller."

"Well, it's not the size," Sara said, and snapped her knee up to hit the demon right between the legs. "It's how you use it."

The demon grabbed her shoulders as it almost doubled over. "And I bet I can find all sorts of fun uses for you."

"Oh, I don't think so," Dean snapped, tackling the demon.

Sara pulled another bottle of holy water out of her pocket and yanked the cap off, flinging the liquid over the brawling pair. Getting the demon into the damn circle didn't seem to be much of an option anymore. Oh, well, she'd done exorcisms on the move before. Sort of.

"Omnis spiritus in munde!" Sara yelled. "In nomine dei. Omnis spiritus in odorem suavitatis!"

Dean ducked a punch from the demon and kneed it in the stomach. It didn't even wind the demon, who twisted and flung Dean to one side again.

"Tu autem effugere, diabole," Sara continued. "Approprinquabit enim judicem dei."

"God?" the demon spat, coming closer. "What good has he ever done?"

Sara swiped the demon's legs out from under it and dived on top of it. "Omnis spiritus in munde!" she yelled again and smeared a handful of chrism oil across the black clerical shirt.

The demon howled in pain and swung out wildly with one arm, sending Sara skidding across the floor.

"In nomine-" Sara rolled to one side to avoid the entire pew that the demon threw at her. "-Dei, you bastard!"

Dean staggered up on the other side of the church, having managed at some point to retrieve his pistol-grip shotgun, and used the butt of the weapon to crack the demon across the back.

"Tu autem effugere, diabole, in nomine dei!"

She ducked another thrown object, not even registering what it was, and had barely straightened when Dean crashed into her at speed. They both fell backwards, Sara underneath Dean.

"Shit!" Dean snapped, rolling off Sara but staying between her and the demon which was really unhelpful-

Apart from the fact that the demon was now pointing Dean's shotgun at her. Sara couldn't remember whether he'd loaded it with normal buckshot or those new weird-ass rock-salt cartridges he'd been experimenting with, but either way she didn't want to find out.

"Your mom wouldn't have been beaten so easily," the demon said.

"Oh, you met her?" Sara said. "Which one were you? And say _legion _and it'll go badly for you."

"My name means nothing to you."

"No, _you _mean nothing to me, you demonic son of a bitch." Sara grinned. "And I think you'll find my way with people tops my mother's."

She'd barely finished speaking when the bucketful of holy water soaked the demon from head to toe. It roared in pain and Dean dived forward, wrenching the shotgun out of its hand and throwing the weapon to one side as he pinned the host. Father Gabriel dropped the empty bucket and grabbed the creature's free arm, almost kneeling on it. Well, whatever worked.

Sara dumped more chrism oil on her hand and quickly drew the sign of the cross on its forehead. Well, she tried to, it was really more a squiggle, but whatever. This was going to work. She gripped her silver pendant tightly, the pointed end digging into her palm, and started the final phase of the ritual.

"Abrenuntias satanae?" she yelled and the demon screamed. "Et omnibus operibus est?" Another scream, but less demonic this time. They were so close! "Omnibus pompis eus?"

Dean glanced up when she paused, eyes narrowing when he saw how pale she was. This was the most dangerous part of the exorcism, when the demon was just about to release its current host and was reaching out for a new one: her. Demons were always keen to possess exorcists or hunters, something to do with that twisted sense of irony that they all seemed to share.

Sara gritted her teeth, feeling her stomach turn as the demon reached out to her soul. But she had her willpower, she had her focus, she had Dean just a few feet away. Time to finish this. "Exorcie te in nomine dei! Adaperiae!"

The demon opened its mouth again, but instead of another scream, thick black smoke poured out.

"Get away from it!" Sara ordered, scrambling back as the two men hurried to do as she'd said. "In nomine dei, iubeo te abire. Eicio te ex hinc!"

The black smoke dissipated, most of it apparently falling through the stone floor on its way to Hell.

"It is over?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. He's human again, you can let go," Sara replied, pushing herself to her feet. "Father Gabriel, I thought I told you to stay where you were."

"My mother always said I was terrible at doing what I was told," the man replied, completely unrepentant.

"Have to admit, you have damn good timing," Dean said.

"Will he be okay?"

"Yeah, should be. Shouldn't remember anything that happened either." Sara stretched gingerly, feeling a few bruises already forming. "Get him checked out, never mention what happened here, have a nice life."

"That's it?" Dean asked.

"Demon's gone," Sara replied flatly. "My job's over. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and collapse."

"Ma'am, thank-"

"Don't," Sara snapped. "Just don't, okay?"

She was out of the church before Dean caught up.

"You okay?" Which was a really strange question from a guy who's face was starting to swell up, but that was Dean for you.

"No." Sara struggled with herself for a moment before blurting out, "I hate this. I hate having to be like this."

"You do what you have to. That's not a bad thing, Sara."

"Isn't it? God, Dean, what I do is so unnatural that even my own body rebels against it!"

Dean frowned. "You what?"

"Didn't I explain the fallout? Basically, my own body is so disgusted at what I do that it rewards me with something akin to the flu. I'll be fine in a day or two."

"You go through that every time?"

"Yep. I mess with some pretty powerful forces, Dean. There's always a price for work like this. It sucks, but..." she shrugged. "Now, can we get out of here?"

xxx  
Sara hadn't been kidding about the fallout, as Dean discovered when she locked herself in their small motel bathroom and started to throw up.

By the time she emerged, paler than ever and looking tired and miserable, Dean had had time to get them both food, although Sara ignored her portion and sat on the bed, idly undoing and redoing her long plait of red hair.

"Sorry."

Dean looked at her, honestly confused. "For what?"

"For the way I've been acting."

"It's cool." He gave her a moment, then took a slight risk. "Called the hospital. Our ex-host is fine. Bruised and concussed, but generally okay."

"Good. That's... good."

"Why didn't you let Gabriel thank you?"

Sara had curled up on her side, away from Dean. "Too much like tempting fate. An exorcism stops the demon, but most of time it doesn't save the host. Normally, if a host remembers what the demon used them to do, they can't handle it. One of the first guys I 'saved'," and the word was loaded with sarcasm, "He killed himself a week later. Can't say I blamed him. I screwed up the tracking procedure and the demon had killed his family by the time I got there."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Couldn't figure out how. But I didn't need to. Remember all those times I called you but didn't say anything, just listened to you rabbiting on? I never worked out if you'd figured the pattern."

He had, eventually. "After every exorcism?"

"Yeah." Sara chuckled softly, with only the faintest trace of humour. "Makes sense, I suppose. Needed you to get me into this life, need you now to- Sorry," she said again. "Fallout always makes me indulge my oestrogen levels."

Dean, feeling both relieved that Sara had stopped herself and slightly guilty for that relief, swiftly turned the conversation towards possible new gigs. Normally, they might give themselves a bit of breathing room after a hunt, but that would give Sara too much time to think. He did know that Sara had already been thinking about exorcisms and the suckiness of demons for years, but that was no reason to let her do it any longer.

Finally, he flipped on the television and sprawled across Sara's bed, completely ignoring her slight huff of irritation.

"You be careful. People in masks cannot be trusted," said one of the characters on screen.

"Hey, _Princess Bride!"_ Dean said grinning. "This film is awesome!"

Sara rolled over to face the television screen, giving Dean a vaguely amused look as she did so. "It was a good book, I know that much."

"It was a book?"

And when Sara rolled her eyes in fond exasperation, Dean felt a bit more like everything might be okay.

xxx

Two days later, Father Gabriel Lewis pulled the church door shut behind him, leaving the workmen to get on with the repairs. Turned out that hosting a stand-off between a demon and an exorcist left you with a lot of clearing up to do.

And no matter how many times he thought about the word _demon _or _exorcist, _Gabriel could quite wrap his head around it. When the girl – and he never had learnt her real name, he realised – had explained to him, only the certainty in her eyes had stopped him from calling the police. Or possibly the psych ward.

But then he'd seen James throw half the pulpit at the young woman, seen him point a weapon at her and her friend, seen the black smoke pour out of him. Not to mention that whole thing with the holy water...

He'd taken to sprinkling his room with holy water before he went to bed as well, and Gabriel was sure that wasn't healthy. But now he _knew, _he couldn't stop thinking about it. And he didn't know what to do about it. Okay, so there were demons, but how did you avoid them? And what did you do when you couldn't avoid them? This wasn't something you could ask just anyone about, after all.

But maybe he could ask the read-head standing by his car.

"Afternoon, Father," she said. "Figured I should come by, apologise, all that stuff."

"Apologise for what?"

She shrugged. "Uh, whatever the hell is it that I've managed to do this time."

"What is your name?"

"Sara Lucian."

"Gabriel Lewis."

"...So, I hear Father James doesn't remember a single thing," Sara said finally.

"Lucky him."

"Yeah, that would be what I came to apologise for. So, sorry. Demons are real, you're probably freaking out, but so long as you don't seek them out, you'll never see one again."

She's an odd mix of contradictions, Gabriel realised. English accent mixed with a few Americanisms that she must have picked up from the man who was working with her that night. Short stature, but that night she'd seemed taller than even Father James. Flippant words, but he'd spent a lot of time listening to people and he could tell the difference between saying sorry and meaning it. And she was definitely in the latter category.

"Don't suppose you have any advice for me?" Gabriel asked finally.

"Uh, forget." Sara smiled. "If you can, that is. If you can't, well, salt works against most things that you'd be likely to find in a city."

"Things? It's not just demons?"

"Well, Dean's a Hunter, not an exorcist, and he does a lot more work than me. Come on, Father. You have faith in God, you gotta believe in the other guy."

"What do you have faith in?"

"My friends, my gun, my knowledge. My good looks. The fact that there will always be something else to fight and that someday, I'm gonna die."

Gabriel unlocked his car and brought the black backpack he'd found in the church out from the trunk. Holding it out to her, he said, "When did you stop trusting God?"

Sara grinned ruefully. "Well, I did come to answer your questions. I gave up on God when my mother died. She had faith, your kind, but it wasn't enough. So I found something else." She took the bag.

"I suppose someone in your line of work would have to see something to believe in it."

"Yeah, pretty much." Sara idly swung the backpack up onto her shoulder, but paused halfway when the small silvery medallion Gabriel had tied to the zip caught her eye.

"St Michael," Gabriel explained. "It seemed appropriate."

"You know, he was always one of my favourite saints. Seemed real, somehow."

"Someone who would stand between the one they loved and the devil himself?" Gabriel smiled. "That must be something you see every day."

Sara hesitated for a moment before offering him another crooked smiled. "Yeah. But it's not everyday that I get to see a man who doesn't even believe in what I do save my life," she replied. "I owe you one for that. Owe you a bigger one for saving Dean. There's a priest in Blue Earth, Minnesota. Pastor Jim Murphy; he can reach me."

"Thank you. Sara?" he added as she turned to leave. "Did it ever occur to you that God doesn't intervene because he knows people like you will do the right thing?"

"I think I'll stick with St Michael, if it's all the same to you. Oh, and, uh, sorry about the mess in the office."

With a final grin that didn't quite reach her eyes, Sara nodded once and walked away. Father Gabriel smiled slightly as he slid into his car. He actually rather liked the new floor-pattern.

And he might just look up that priest in Minnesota. It would be... comforting to know exactly what was going on in this world. Alhough, not quite as comforting as it was to know that there were people out there, hunting the monsters.

xxx

Thus concludes_There But For The Grace of God. _The next story in this series, _Sins of the Father, _in which John attempts to discover more about the demon that killed his wife by desperate means, will hopefully be up in a few weeks. Reviews and advice are hugely appreciated.


End file.
